Faded
by Lilako
Summary: "When the ones we love leave us, we must celebrate their lives rather than dwell on their death." My entry for Zutara Week Day Six - Faded, told in three parts.
1. Part I: Incandescence

For the original version of this fic (WITH MUSIC :D) please go to w w w. zw2012 day6 .webs .com

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"_Leaves from the vine_

_Falling so slow_

_Like fragile, tiny shells,_

_Drifting in the foam._

_Little soldier boy, comes marching home_

_Brave soldier boy, comes marching home."_

The pale summer sunlight bathed everything in mournful white as it drifted lazily across the sky. A day like this shouldn't be beautiful in any way. It should be gray and empty, just like he was. But as usual cold irony seemed to stare down at him mockingly from the blue, blue sky, torturing him with its gaze. The crowd before him stared down at their feet with the utmost respect as their tears mixed with the dirt.

"_Dust from the hearth_

_From burning flames_

_When I am gone_

_Remember my name_

_Little soldier boy, wants to go home_

_Brave soldier boy, let me go home."_

Blinding, blinding white reflected the sun from every direction in a most painful way, but Zuko welcomed it. Today was a painful kind of day.

His world was falling apart.

Today marked the end of a weeklong celebration – _"For when the ones we love leave us, nephew, we must celebrate their lives rather than dwell on their death, never forget that" _– and the beginning of a new chapter in Zuko's life.

The one without his uncle.

"_Death comes to us from the rising sun_

_It carries us away on its rays_

_And when our final day is done_

_Our ashes are swept away_

_Little soldier boy will not come home_

_But know of this and pray_

_When your flame burns out and Agni claims you_

_We will remember your name."_

The song ended on a long, bittersweet note and the band bowed themselves away. The head Fire Sage stepped forward onto the raised dais, next to the mass of white that was General Iroh's fallen body. The great Dragon of the West, flame burned out at last.

"Iroh, Prince of the Fire Nation," his voice echoed into the sky, "General of the Fire Nation and Dragon of the West. You were a wise and dedicated leader and esteemed General to our people. You were father of Lu Ten, now passed. Husband of Ya Ming, now passed. Brother of Ozai, now passed. Uncle of Zuko and Azula. You will be remembered as a great hero of the Fire Nation, and of the world.

"We lay you to rest."

The words resonated hollowly within his chest as the Fire Sages lit his uncle's pyre. He should be feeling proud right now, he recognized – Katara had written those words herself. But instead he felt nothing.

Zuko stood with his nation before him and his uncle's ashes behind him, and as he cried openly, unashamedly, the sky (having mocked him enough, perhaps) cried with him.

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_This is the first part of my entry for Zutara Week Day 6: Faded. I originally made this story in a different format - with music. Please view that version! I think the music really enhances the story. It can be viewed at its own website, w w w . zw 2012 day 6 faded . webs .com_


	2. Part II: Gone to Ash

Ashes choked him, making his throat clench shut as he advanced. His cries were only partly human, belonging to the demon he'd often claimed to be in the past.

His fist flew forward for the thousandth time, jets of flame crowding the small room. Again and again he punched at nothing, and the smoke made him dizzy but he didn't care.

His uncle was gone.

When he was younger Zuko had always taken his uncle for granted. At times he'd been tactless and even cruel to Uncle Iroh. And now he was gone. Now he'd never tell another stupid joke or force Zuko to drink hot leaf juice or tell him he's being an idiot when he needs to hear it most.

Iroh was dead.

Zuko's flames began to singe his hands. Maybe if he didn't have enough air in his lungs, if he was too drained of energy to think, he would be able to distract himself forever. His limbs thrust out in every direction, sending sparks flying throughout his office. _One two, one, one two, kick left right-_

A knock sounded at the door but he ignored it – who was fool enough to bother him now? – and kept sending embers soaring everywhere, burning holes in the carpet at his feet.

The door flew open on oiled hinges and Katara barely managed to block the stray fireball that had been hurtling her way. "What the fuck are you doing here?" Zuko asked, his voice hoarse from unshed tears and the smoke that hung in the air. He paused in his display of bending but his body refused to remain still; he twitched, pacing side to side like an animal whose cage had been set alight.

"You shouldn't be in here. You could have been burned-"

And though his words were sincere it was clear that his thoughts were so very far from this room, far from Katara. Far from himself. In fact he didn't know if there was a _where_ about his thoughts at all – was the Spirit World a place? – but he simply understood that wherever that was, it wasn't here. Because his uncle wasn't here, and that was all that mattered.

Katara grabbed his wrist, which had still been encased in flame (he hadn't noticed), and doused it with her bending water. And then wordlessly, she held him to her, bringing his head into the crook of her shoulder.

The action felt strange to him. For longer than he could remember, he'd wanted her touch. He'd felt drawn to her, but this wasn't what he'd imagined. He didn't feel the flutters in his chest that he thought he was supposed to feel. There were no butterflies. Instead he felt so empty that it hurt and not even this, not even she, could fill that void.

Katara held Zuko to her as he wept for the only father he'd ever had.


	3. Part III: At Peace

It was a year before Zuko could drink tea again.

He had never been partial to the taste, in any case. But as Fire Lord he often had to hold audiences with his ministers, generals and other high-ranking officials of the court, and tea was a traditional component of these meetings. Just the smell of the wrinkled leaves releasing their flavors into the water was enough to set him on edge.

Zuko associated tea much too closely with his uncle for comfort. Sniveling nobles, feigning sorrow at Iroh's death, often told him that it would get better, that the pain of losing a loved one receded with time. But this he knew was simply something people said to keep themselves from seeming heartless – even if they were.

Following Iroh's death, the young Fire Lord had dedicated every waking second to running his country. He found that there was so much to be done in the running of a nation that it was easy to lose himself in his tasks, that it was just as distracting as bending himself into oblivion, and was equally as exhausting.

And for the most part, it had worked. Zuko had not fallen apart. Not yet.

Until perhaps earlier that day, exactly one year after Iroh's funeral pyre had been lit.

"My Fire Lord," the trembling servant (who clearly did not relish the thought of bothering Zuko on the anniversary of Iroh's funeral) announced himself, "I deeply regret interrupting your…meditation, but Councilman Sokka and General Bu Ying have arrived. What would you have me say to them?"

"Have Sokka wait in my personal chambers. What is it Bu Ying wishes to discuss with me?" To Zuko's credit his voice was even and calm, hollow though it was.

"My Lord, he said his business was not for a servant's ears, and that he would speak to you whenever you are ready to see him."

Zuko pinched the bridge of his nose. It was just like General Bu Ying to arrive, unannounced, on the anniversary of Iroh's funeral. Wondering what the ass of a general wanted, he sent the servant off to collect him.

Too soon the pompous Bu Ying was standing before his Fire Lord, but he did not bow quite as lowly as Fire Nation citizens of his rank were expected to. "Fire Lord," he drawled in greeting, "it is an _honor,_ as always."

It took every ounce of Zuko's willpower to not rise to the implied slight. "General Bu Ying. Sit, let us have tea."

The servant drew forward with a tray in hand, pouring the two men each a steaming cup. Bu Ying gently sipped from his, the steam wafting in his face.

Zuko's cup remained untouched. "What brings you here today, General?"

Bu Ying's smirk surfaced behind the rim of his cup. "Why, my Lord, I was simply in the neighborhood, and wished to pay you a visit."

Zuko let the lie hang in the air, so the general continued. "I've just returned from visiting some relatives in the – former – colonies, you know. It was quite a pleasant trip, despite some…unsettling events."

"I am glad you enjoyed the time with your family."

"Oh! Forgive me my insolence, my Lord. I seem to have forgotten what day it is." _And that you don't _have _a family,_ he meant. _Not anymore._

"It is excused, Bu Ying."

"Yes. Thank you my Lord. Ever so merciful. Anyway yes, the trip was quite nice, save for the riots."

"You don't say," remarked Zuko, beginning to lose his temper with this vulture ape of a man.

"Oh, but I do." He hid his smirk behind another sip. "You see, my Lord, there are earthbenders celebrating in the streets. How _barbaric_ of them to celebrate the death of a man as esteemed as the great Dragon of the West – but then again, the earthbending scum have never exactly been the paragon of high-minded society-"

Zuko stood, fists clenched within the sleeves of his robes. "If you will excuse me, General, I have matters to attend to."

"Of course, my Lord. Thank you for taking time out of this day to meet with me."

This day. Not your day. This day, particularly.

Zuko strode from the room as fast as protocol would allow him.

His mind whirled in time with his pounding heart as his steps carried him further and further into the palace. Riots were nothing new in the former colonies, now the United Republic. They were perhaps not as common as they had been three years before, when the Republic had been established, but some protests still broke out. Such was the result of a hundred years of civil strife between two conflicting groups of people.

But celebrating in the streets – celebrating the death of General Iroh? Bu Ying was lying.

He had to be.

Frustrated with himself for letting the damned general get under his skin, he flung open the doors to his chambers and barricaded himself behind them…

And jumped when a strong hand clasped his shoulder.

"Hey, jerkbender. About time."

"Sokka, leave him alone. You just about scared the crap out of him."

Zuko turned to see Katara scolding her brother, hands on her hips. He'd forgotten Sokka had been led to his rooms.

"Katara, you ruined it!"

"I don't know, Sokka," said Aang. "I don't think we want to see Zuko crap himself."

Zuko took in the scene before him. All of his old friends lounged about the room. He couldn't honestly say he wanted to see any of them right now, but he appreciated what they were trying to do.

Sokka sat back onto a pile of cushions where he'd apparently been gorging himself on dumplings. He plopped one into his mouth and gnawed, then made a face. "Ugh! Vegetables? Don't you people have any meat? Komodo chicken? Maybe some picken?"

It was all a farce, of course. Sokka was just trying to lighten the mood. But pretending nothing was wrong on the anniversary of his uncle's funeral…it felt all wrong. Zuko ignored both the hollow feeling in the pit of his stomach and Sokka's antics as the councilman tried to scrape remnants of carrots and celery off his tongue.

At a table to Sokka's left, Aang was rolling a steamed bun around and around on his plate with his airbending. Momo followed its movements closely. The lemur wagged his tail and knocked over Aang's tea. "Oops," the Avatar said, bending the drink back into his porcelain cup.

"_I know you're not supposed to cry over spilled tea," _a familiar voice echoed from years before, _"but… it's just so sad!"_

Zuko ignored the tug within him that threatened to rend his heart in two.

"I have important business to attend to," he told his friends. "If you'll excuse me…"

He sped from the room (this time faster than protocol allowed) and made his way to his office.

There a portrait hung on the wall, and his eyes traced the familiar lines of it, raking over his uncle's round features. He was still staring at it when two figures entered without knocking ten minutes later.

"Zuko-"

He cut Katara off. "Leave me."

"Zuko." It was Toph's voice this time, and her unusual use of his real name stilled him.

He resigned himself to the fact that his friends were not going to let him be alone. Dragging himself away from the portrait, he sat in the seat at his desk. "What is it you two want?"

The blind earthbender handed him a scroll. "Your general was lying. Have a look at that." She turned to leave, but added, "And Zuko… pull yourself together. Gramps wouldn't have wanted to see you like this."

It was like a slap in the face; his heart rose into his throat and he choked on it, biting back the bitter taste that precedes a bout of tears. Toph left.

Katara sat on a cushioned seat but said nothing, and Zuko was glad for the silence. Eventually, Zuko found his voice.

"So… what are you guys doing in the Fire Nation?"

Katara met his eyes gently. After all the answer was obvious – they were here for him.

But he didn't want them to be.

"Why don't you read the scroll?" she suggested, twisting her hands in her lap. "We ran into your general on the way in, and it's a good thing we did. He started going off on Sokka saying he couldn't control his own city. He said something about the celebrations in the streets."

"…So there _are_ celebrations in the streets?"

"Yes," she said slightly impatiently, "but ...oh, just read the scroll."

Zuko unrolled it, and his eyes widened as he took in the words.

"'A celebration… in honor of the late General Iroh of the Fire Nation. Lest we forget.'

"They…they're honoring Uncle's memory?"

"Of course. For the most part, the people like the compromise of the United Republic. There are still some former Fire Nation citizens that aren't too happy about it, but for the most part things have been settling down. And Uncle-"

Zuko nearly flinched at the term of endearment; he'd rarely heard Katara call Iroh 'Uncle', even though Uncle had encouraged it.

"- had a big part in its founding."

The people of the Republic were honoring Iroh's memory. Not just the firebenders, but the waterbenders, and the earthbenders. Even in death, his uncle was bringing people together.

Zuko's heart felt just a little bit lighter.

An hour later, Zuko and the rest of the old gang were sitting on embroidered cushions, and when Toph poured him a cup of ginseng tea he did not refuse it.

After all, Uncle Iroh had always said tea was the best cure for everything, and ginseng had been his favorite.

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Weeks passed and summer relinquished its hold on the Fire Nation, leaving cool seaside breezes in its wake. It had been surprisingly comforting to have all his old friends with him, but soon enough Aang and Sokka were packing their bags again. "I'm the South Water Tribe representative to the council," Sokka had said, by way of explanation. "I'm needed by my people."

"I understand," Zuko had said, and he truly did.

Toph and Katara had chosen to stay. Toph, despite being only sixteen years old, had already carved a place for herself within the Republic's society. She had founded a metalbending academy. Her students needed her, but she thought he needed her more for the time being. She said this with a light punch to his arm.

Katara was more of a mystery. When the topic had come up, she merely said that a change of scenery would be nice, and Zuko wondered if she had any obligations in Republic City like the rest of their friends did. But he was glad for her company, and didn't press the matter.

He spent weekend afternoons with the girls at the beach. He began to look forward to the trips to Ember Island with two of his favorite people in the world. They gave him an opportunity to shed the mantel of Fire Lord and simply be Zuko, if only for a couple of days at a time.

"It's beautiful," Katara said during one of these trips, as the beach lit up with sunset hues.

"Yeah, just downright gorgeous. It looked better yesterday, though."

Katara hmphed and gave her a look she couldn't see. "You don't have to be such a downer, Toph."

Before Zuko knew it it was fall and Toph left for Republic City. She said she couldn't stay away from her students any longer, but she would come back in the spring.

That left Katara.

They spent the nights sparring in the courtyard by the turtleduck pond, and Zuko realized how much he had missed this, this freedom to do as he pleased, to pour his heart and his soul into his bending. They ate their meals together, and Zuko was pleasantly surprised to learn how much Katara liked Fire Nation food. "But the Water Tribe will always have the best cuisine," she told him, so he began to import things just for her; a little at first - a leopard-whalebone comb here, a crate of sea prunes there - until she had a tribe's worth of peculiar goods at her disposal. (Zuko dearly regretted his lack of insight regarding the sea prunes, and refused to ever try them again.)

In the mornings they shared a pot of ginseng tea on the days he didn't have any meetings, and on the days he did she started to accompany him, serving as a representative of sorts for the Southern Water Tribe. She always had useful advice and because her travels had taken her all over the world, she had an understanding about how certain regions differed from others and what was in whose best interests. Increasingly, he found that no matter how dry the topic, whenever Katara was speaking she always commanded his attention.

Months went by and still Katara never expressed any desire to return to Republic City. The thought nagged at the back of his mind until one day, by the turtleduck pond, he asked if she missed it at all.

She averted her gaze, her hand trailing by the water where she was leaving breadcrumbs for the turtleducks.

"You can talk to me," he said, sitting at her side.

"I know I can."

But she said nothing, and the only sound between them was the rippling in the pond as the turtleducks lapped up their dinner.

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Spring came and with it, the return of the oppressive heat. Zuko and Katara resumed their weekly trips to Ember Island, but because it was only the two of them, the trips felt different, somehow. They would spar on the beach, and when that lost its appeal they lounged in Zuko's beach house. It was a house built of memories, for the both of them. Zuko decided it was strange (but not unpleasant) to share this space with her and only her.

Toph returned to the Fire Nation soon after, when the ember lilies began to coat the hills of Ember Island. She had gotten taller but nothing else had changed; she walked right up to the Fire Lord and punched him hard on the shoulder, saying "What's up, Sparky?" The royal guard had been scandalized.

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It was raining outside and Zuko was looking for Katara to ask if she'd like to spar. Afternoon rainshowers were the best time because neither was given an unfair advantage; the Fire Nation sun filled his veins with energy and the pouring rain gave her an endless supply of water. He stood on the wooden veranda outside the door to the antechamber of her rooms, about to knock, when a voice held him in place.

"How long do you think you can keep this up, Sugar Queen?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh come on Katara, I don't need my feet to know you're lying. So don't bother."

"Toph-"

"Sokka wants to know when you're coming back."

Zuko's heart stopped. Katara could leave whenever she wanted to... But he had come to depend on her, to look forward to seeing her from the moment he woke up every day. He knew if she wanted to leave, he couldn't keep her here, and he wouldn't try to.

But he wanted her to stay.

"I...don't know what to say, Toph."

"Why don't you try the truth? Cut the crap Katara. We came here for a reason. To be there for Zuko. But you've been here for almost a year. What gives?"

"I..."

"It's okay. I already know. I just wish you could be honest with me about it."

A door closed, and a moment later he heard a sob from within.

Zuko decided he should leave her alone, for now.

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Breakfast the next morning was tense. Zuko hadn't been able to have dinner with the girls the night before (the woes of having a country to run), nor had he spoken to either of them after overhearing their argument. He sipped his ginseng tea and watched them make vague allusions to something he wasn't privy to.

"Can someone pass the butter - oh that's okay Sugar Queen, you can _stay_ right there. Just let us know what you decide, mkay?"

Katara bristled. "Well okay then, maybe I WILL stay. Would that be alright with you, Toph?"

"Yes! Yes, it _really would._ I just wish you'd stop lying to yourself and everyone else about it."

Zuko made a face. "When has Katara lied about butter?"

Katara shot him a glare and Toph waved her hand dismissively, saying, "Don't worry your little Fire Nation head about it, Sparky."

Okay, so Zuko was still bad at jokes. Resigning himself to this fact, he passed Toph the butter boat.

She facepalmed. "And I'm the blind one, here..." she muttered, before buttering her toast.

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Zuko was in his office, staring at the portrait of his uncle on the wall.

It was summer again. A year had passed - though it hadn't felt like it - and he missed his uncle something fierce.

But now he could look at a pot of tea and not have a mental breakdown, so he supposed he was getting better.

Katara came in, carrying a tea tray. "I got the Kirachu blend today. I know you like the coconut."

"Thanks, Katara."

"By the way, I got a hawk from Sokka. They should be here tomorrow. But they're leaving by next week. Something about a gang in Republic City robbing a-"

"Katara, I need to ask you something."

Zuko had resigned himself to this. Katara had stayed with him for a year, and while he so enjoyed her company he couldn't help but wonder _why_.

Did she even want to? Did she feel obligated to? Maybe she really missed Republic City but thought it might hurt his feelings if she said so. Maybe that was why she would never let him talk about it.

But at this rate he would never know unless he asked and suddenly, it mattered to him very much whether she _wanted_ to be here.

He wanted her to be happy.

Katara sat down. "What is it?"

"Katara, I-"

A knock sounded at the door, and it opened. "My Lord, Councilman Zei requests a word with you, he says it's urgent-"

And just like that the conversation was diverted. Zuko wondered whether he imagined the relief in Katara's eyes as he left the room.

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The next day dawned early, too early, even for a firebender. Zuko lit the incense, just as he had the year before.

But the year before, Katara hadn't been here for this.

Katara poured two glasses and they drank to Iroh's memory.

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Sokka, Aang and Toph came to celebrate Iroh's memory, rather than wallow in his passing - because _when the ones we love leave us, we must celebrate their lives rather than dwell on their death _- and when they left, Katara stayed.

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"Zuko," the Fire Sage said to the crowd below him, "Fire Lord to our nation for sixty-one years. You restored honor to the Fire Nation after the 100 Year War. You aided the Avatar in restoring peace and balance to the world. You were father of Iroh. Father of Kyrsa. Husband of Katara. Grandfather of Kuzon and Kira. Grandfather of Makoto and Sami. Grandfather of Hakoda, Piando and Sakai.

"We lay you to rest."

Katara had never known this kind of grief.

But her time in this world was wearing thin, anyway, and she knew from experience that the pain of losing a loved one faded with time. Either way, she would be with Zuko soon.

She was at peace.

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Please ignore the lame line breaks... I can't figure out the spacing on this site. Anyway, if you liked this (or if you didn't) please leave a review. :)


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